


Fairy Lights

by Anarchist_Rose



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchist_Rose/pseuds/Anarchist_Rose
Summary: Everything was starting to heal. I was starting to feel like a person again. I was ready to forgive Josh for all that happened on the mountain. I wasn't ready for the one person I loved to forget everything. Everyone lives ending plus Josh.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “You said you have a dream... That dream... Make it come true! Make your wonderful dream a reality, and it will become your truth!” -N, Pokemon Black and White

“I have this nightmare. It’s reoccurring. I’m walking in this tunnel when I notice two paths diverging. I think back to that Robert Frost poem and walk the one on the left, taking the road travelled less. As I walk I hear screaming. There’s a ton of voices, and I recognize every one of them, each of them calling for help, yelling my name, screaming that it hurts. The screaming gets louder and louder until I’m about to lose my sanity and start screaming as well when it suddenly goes silent. There’s no more screaming. No more yelling. No more pain. I walk forward, slowly, each step taking more time than the last, until I reach three wooden doors. I have to open one. I can’t go back. There’s no other way for me to go, so I pick the middle one, and, and,” my voice shakes and I feel tears start to fill my eyes. 

“It’s a wendigo?” he asks. 

I nod. “Yeah. I feel its fingers on my face, and, for a split second, I see Hannah in its eyes. It turns my head quickly and I have an out of body experience. I see my head rolling on the ground. That’s when I wake up.” 

I feel his arms close around me, pulling me close to his bare chest. “It’s okay, Ash.” He places a kiss on my head and I can close my eyes again. I stop shaking and the tears go away.

“It doesn’t happen as often as it used to. It used to be every night,” I say, before I look up into his ocean eyes, “but now only happens when you aren’t around.” He strokes my hair, letting his fingers get tangled in the long strands. “Do you have nightmares too, Chris?”

He nods. “Yeah, all the time.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Do you think they’ll ever go away?”

He pulls me closer. “It’s been five years, Ash. I honestly don’t know.”

“They’re getting worse.” The feeling of him stroking my hair keeps me calm as I speak. 

“Is it because-?”

I can only shrug in response. “I don’t know. Probably.” I let out a sigh. “Chris, I thought I forgave Josh a long time ago. I tell myself I have. I tell myself he wasn’t in his right mind, and all the stuff with the... the...” deep breath, “all the stuff with the wendigos wasn’t his fault.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with throwing him a party once he gets out of jail? Inviting everyone over for a party?”

I nod. “I think it will give everyone closure. We all need that.”

He gives me a smile. “I think we all do, too.” He lays back down in bed. I notice the clock for the first time. Just past four in the morning. I feel awful for waking Chris up but I’m glad he’s here for me. I finally smile when he pulls me down, close to his chest. I can feel his heart beating. “I love you,” he says. 

“I love you too.” I drift back off to sleep, the smell of him filling me, comforting me. Any dreams I have, I don’t remember. 

The first alarm goes off at seven. The second at seven-thirty. We pull ourselves out of bed after the second alarm goes off. I go to the kitchen and get each of our breakfasts ready while Chris gets changed for the day. He has work at nine and needs to leave the house by eight-thirty. I don’t have work until a bit later so I prepare breakfast. I grab a pair of plates and glasses, putting a chocolate muffin, strawberry yogurt and glass of grape juice in front of my seat, and bacon, eggs and a glass of orange juice in front of his. Once the table is set Chris comes out, ready to go. He has a smile on his face and gives me a kiss. “Thanks, Ash.”

We sit down and eat, mostly in silence, still trying to fight off sleep. We make the occasional comment, about Mike and Jess’s upcoming wedding, how Matt and Em are surprisingly, still going strong, Sam’s new job as a Veterinary Technician while she works on her Doctorate... “So you and Sam are picking Josh up tomorrow?” I ask. Chris chokes on his orange juice. I probably should have waited until he finished drinking until I asked a question about Josh. It’s rare either of us bring him up. Even rarer if I do.

“Um, yeah,” he says. “He gets out tomorrow at eleven, I think. I doubt it’ll be that open and shut, though. I’ll need to leave around seven-thirty. It’s a three hour drive to get there and I have to pick up Sam too.”

I nod. “So you’re going to bring him here around six that evening for dinner? Everyone else said they would be here five-thirty. Jess said she might come a bit earlier to help me set up.”

“That’s good. What about Em?”

“She has to wait on the babysitter, who isn’t going to get there until five-fifteen or something.” 

I can see the far off look in Chris’s eyes when I mention Matt and Em’s kid. He spoils her almost as much as Emily does, which is a feat in itself. “I can’t believe how big Izzy has gotten!” 

I let out a small laugh. “I know you’re the favorite uncle, but don’t let Em catch you calling Isabella, Izzy. You know how big a fit she’d throw.”

Chris laughs along with me. “I know.” With that he gets up and places his now empty plate into the sink. “I’ve got to go.” He leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“See you this evening.” 

Chris works at a small company that designs apps for phones. By small I mean there’s the boss and like, three other employees, and the office he works at is a studio in the guy who owns the company’s backyard, but it makes impressive, well known apps that allow him have a career instead of just a job. I believe they’re thinking about expanding the company. Chris likes where he works and makes a surprising amount of money. I can see him light up every time he talks about it. I’m glad he’s doing something he loves.

I sneak a glance at my laptop, letting out a small sigh. I’m not so lucky. I sent my novel to as many different publishers I could find. None of them wanted to publish it. I’m working on self publishing, but to get the results I want for my book it is going to cost well over a thousand dollars. I’m saving up, little by little, but bills for the house, paying for my bridesmaid dress, getting a wedding present for Mike and Jess, paying for this party for Josh and giving him some money so he isn’t helpless when he starts off, is draining my bank account. I haven’t told Chris any of my concerns, though. If I told him he’d insist on publishing my book now, paying for it completely. He’s too nice. He’s the one who bought our house. I can’t let him pay for this either. I need to publish this book without him anyway. 

I make my way back to the bedroom where I start to get ready for the day. I work at a museum, sitting at the front desk, selling people tickets and giving tours as needed. It’s not a difficult job, and I don’t hate it. When I’m not tending to the visitors I get to write in my notebook, come up with new ideas for stories, hopefully some that will be more appealing to the publishing companies. I put in my contacts and quickly do my makeup before putting on my blouse and skirt and heading off. 

The day is uneventful. Only a few people come in, since it’s the middle of the week the usual people that would visit are at work. My lunch break I go to the break room, grab a frozen dinner I keep in the mini fridge and microwave it, just noticing I brought macaroni and cheese. I grab myself a sprite zero and add cherry flavored syrup to it. It’s Thursday. Tomorrow would be the day Sam and I go out for lunch, our weekly girls day out, but that won’t happen because she’ll be getting Josh. Our favorite place is this place near her work that makes hibachi style japanese food and sushi, but it’s cheap for the amount of food you get. We think it’s cute and charming. We like that it plays J-Pop over the speakers instead of the typical instrumental music that is usually heard at fancier hibachi places. Maybe next week. I’ll go pick me up Freebirds instead. It’s a further drive but I can pick it up and leave instead of sitting at a table awkwardly by myself. 

I find myself taking notes in the notebook. No one is here at the desk with me. There is one woman, late fifties, working in the gift shop. Another person is making rounds in the museum to help guests if they need it. It’s a small museum specializing on the history of petroleum in our city. Very rarely do people come here for fun. The most hectic days are the days elementary children come for field trips. Not today. “What are you working on, Ms. Brown?”

I look up. The woman who works in the gift shop, Mary, sometimes comes up to the front if we’re having an especially slow day. She can see the front desk through the glass window separating her shop from the rest of the entry. “I’m just jotting down some ideas for a new book.”

Mary gives me a smile. “Did you just finish one? I thought you were really excited about it.”

I nod. “Yeah, but I wasn’t able to get it published. I’m going to start writing a new one and focus on self publishing my other book. It costs a lot of money though.”

“My nephew works in a publishing company. It’s not a big one, but they’re always looking for new authors. It might be a good place to start.” The boredom I was feeling moments before melts away, suddenly. “What’s your book about?”

I feel blood rushing to my cheeks. I don’t usually walk about my works to people I know unless I completely trust them. Chris is the only person who has read all of my books. “Oh, um, it’s about a boy who loses his two sisters in a car accident and how he has to recover without them.” I don’t tell her that I was inspired to write it by one of my friends who lost his two sisters in a night. A large part of writing that book was why I was able to forgive Josh, but another part was so I could forgive myself for taking part in the prank that led Hannah and Beth to their deaths. I haven’t completely forgiven myself. I doubt I ever will. 

Mary gives me a smile, not aware of the events that caused me to write that book. I haven’t told anyone about what took place on the mountain. The only people that know are those of us who survived, and the officers who rescued us. Our families all suspect something happened, but, after seeing the way the officers looked at us, we didn’t think they’d believe us. They don’t know about the near death experiences. They just know something traumatic happened. “I’m sure it’s an excellent book, Ashley.”

“Thanks.” I’m going to see Josh tomorrow. He inspired all of this. I decided I’m dedicating this book to him, as well as Hannah and Beth. Chris will have a book for him, one day, but this story wasn’t written with him in mind. I’m just glad he was with me every step of the way, otherwise I’d never finish writing it. 

Eventually, I’m able to leave. Mary gives me her nephew’s email and I’m told to tell him his aunt gave me his information. I feel a bit lighter. My book probably isn’t going to get published, but the thought brings a spring to my step. I feel like once this book is out there I’ll be able to rest easy. 

I get home and Chris is already there. He sits on the couch watching an anime. There is a spot open next to him. I kick off my shoes and curl up next to him. It’s our evening routine, spending time together when we get off of work, enjoying one another’s company, playing video games, watching television, eating dinner, or even watching the occasional live stream on YouTube. We live a comfortable, happy life. With the possibility of my book getting published, one last hope, there’s a smile on my face. A part of me is still worried. Will Josh coming back change everything we’ve built here? Am I being selfish hoping nothing will change? I pray I’m not. I give Chris a kiss on the cheek. He smiles and pulls me closer. I’m living in my own fairytale. I hope it doesn’t change.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Can I ask you a question? Your true face... What kind of... face is it? I wonder... The face under the mask... Is that... your true face?” -Child of the Moon, Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask

The alarm goes off early. I find myself turning over, pretending the blaring sound didn’t scare me awake, making me feel like there is a pit in my stomach. I much prefer waking up to music, gently, a soft strum of guitar easing me from my sleep. I know Chris prefers that, too. He probably just forgot to change the default alarm on his phone. Chris lets out a low groan as he searches for his phone to turn the alarm off. When he does I feel him pull me closer towards him. “Chris,” I mutter quietly, “you need to get up.”

He let’s out a groan into my hair and a small smile crosses my face. Neither of us are morning people. On days off I’m known to be in bed well past two in the afternoon. On his days off, Chris can be in bed until dinner time. We both can drag ourselves out of bed, but we’re much more satisfied staying in, holding each other, watching Netflix or playing video games. Once we had to catch a plane that required us to leave our apartment at four in the morning. He and I just pulled an all-nighter. Neither of us are morning people. Because of this it’s not a surprise Chris’s breathing starts to slow and his light snore starts to fill the air. I’m a slightly better morning person than Chris. Slightly. “Chris, get up.” No response. I sigh as I remove myself away from him and step out of the bed, where I go turn on the light in our room. A low moan fills the air. 

“No.” He sounds like a stubborn child. 

I resort to pulling the blanket off of him. “Chris, you have to go get Josh.”

He finally opens his eyes. I can see how confused they look in the early morning. His hand goes to his nightstand where he searches for his glasses. I walk over and grab them for him, as well as grabbing my own. He gives me a grateful, though very tired, smile. “Thanks, Ash.”

I shrug. “It’s nothing. Go get ready. I’ll get breakfast set up.” Chris’s tired smile turns to an excited one. 

To say Chris loves breakfast is an understatement. It’s his favorite meal. To say I dislike breakfast is an understatement. The smell of syrup makes me nauseous. I worked at a Cracker Barrel for a few months back in high school. I quit because of the events on the mountain. Working there was a bad decision on my part. I hated mornings and breakfast foods. Chris would come visit me, sitting in my section when I was serving or browse the store when I was hostessing, buying something before he left so the managers wouldn’t kick him out. He was probably the only thing that made working there bearable. I always had to serve him pancakes and maple syrup when I served him food, though. When we moved in together a year ago, I started making him breakfast in the mornings because I liked the nostalgic feeling of serving him breakfast. It became habit. This morning I decided to make him pancakes and bacon for breakfast. That was his favorite meal. I didn’t mind making them. It was fun to play around with the batter, try to make fun shapes. The shape of choice today was a flower. Chris didn’t care what shape his food was in, and didn’t care if I made shapes. He would usually comment on them if he could tell what they were. That would not be the case today. The flower was misshapen. The petals morphed together. Sighing, I placed blueberries on the cake and flipped it over. It was then I felt arms come across my waist an a chin rest on my shoulder. “Pancakes? What did I do to deserve this?”

Chris knows I hate syrup. I know he is glad when I make them for him. He feels like I love him more than I hate the maple smell. I let out a low laugh at Chris’s words. “I just thought today was a special day.” 

He kissed my cheek and let go of me, going to get a pair of plates, glasses and silverware and set our table, before grabbing my grape juice and his orange juice from the fridge and filling our glasses. He then grabbed one of my chocolate muffins from the freezer and put it in the microwave for me and grabbed one of my yogurts from the fridge. “Thanks,” I say quietly. 

“No problem.” He gave me a small glance and grinned. “You’re making me breakfast after all.” 

I finish with the last pancake and take them over to his plate. I didn’t eat breakfast until I was twenty. Chris would tell me to eat something just to make sure I was eating well. He then started bringing me muffins and grape juice or those Gogurts for kids, claiming something was better than nothing. I’m glad he’s looking out for me. 

We sit down and enjoy one another’s company. In the corner of the room our bluetooth speaker plays music from my phone. I forgot to turn it off after I finished making the pancakes. I always cook to something, usually a television show or YouTube video of some sort, but this morning I just played Spotify, one the playlists I use while writing. I liked it. Maybe I should have music playing during breakfast from now on. “This is nice,” I hear Chris say. 

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

A smirk comes across Chris’s features, blue eyes glinting happily. “I knew it. I can read your mind.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure you can.”

He nodded. “It’s true. I can. You like chocolate and sea salt and vinegar chips together. You rewatch the same five animes, just alternating between them, you bite the inside of your cheek when you are concentrating really hard on your writing-”

I let out a laugh and cut off his words. “That’s not reading my mind, Chris. That’s just knowing me really well.”

He matches my laugh with his own. “Same difference.”

We finish our meal and Chris looks at the time. “I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah.” My voice is quiet. I feel butterflies in my stomach. Josh is getting out today. Nothing is going to change besides that, right? “I’ll clean the house while you’re out.”

“Don’t stress yourself out too much.”

I shake my head. “I make no promises.”

“Call me if you need anything.” His eyebrows crease in worry. He knows how anxious I’ve been recently. 

I had the nightmare again last night. I woke up screaming and Chris held me until I went back to sleep. That was another reason he was so tired this morning. He told me not to worry about it last night when I kept apologizing. He kept kissing my hair and eyelids, telling me it was okay. The wendigo wasn’t coming back. It was destroyed in the fire. I didn’t tell him that in my dream that he went out to shoot the wendigos, like he did that night, but didn’t make it back. I had to watch as his head was thrown in front of the door I was watching from. I fell to my knees and I cried. I didn’t tell him in my dream when there was the gun between the two of us he shot himself, and his head went flying off in a bloody mess. I didn’t tell him that in my dream he followed down to the basement and saw me die. He cried over me before getting killed by the wendigo himself. I feel an anxiety attack coming on. I have to stop it. I take deep breaths hoping Chris doesn’t notice. He does. I can tell from the look in his eyes. He pretends he didn’t, though. He gets up and grabs our plates. I watch him carefully. 

He walks with a limp. It’s slight. Someone on the street wouldn’t notice unless it was pointed out to them. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s still there. He didn’t have that limp when he left the lodge, when we kissed. He came back with it. He says he’s glad that he just ended up with a limp. He doesn’t say it out loud but I know he thinks of the man who saved his life. He says it was his fault that he died. He moved. The man on the mountain paid the price. I remind Chris it’s not his fault. When Chris has nightmares he tells me he sees the man getting decapitated over and over. He says he sees me getting burned in the lodge. He says he has dreams where the saw tears me in half. He says he has dreams where he shot me. I tell him it’s okay. I tell him none of that happened. He doesn’t have as many nightmares as I do, but when he does I make sure to take care of him, help him fall to sleep again. I can’t sleep without him. I doubt he can sleep without me. We’re interconnected. All eight of us are. Even if we don’t see the others for months, or years in Josh’s case, we can’t forget. A single string has tied us all together. It holds each of our hearts. The threads were woven that night in the lodge, when we killed Hannah and Beth, and the threads pulled us close together, stronger than any chain, linking all of our hearts, the moment the lodge was set on fire. The moment eight became one. 

A kiss on my lips pulls me from my thoughts. Chris noticed the blank look that must have been on my face. “Ash, I can stay. Sam can go get Josh by herself.”

I shake my head. “He needs his best friend. I’ll be fine. If anything happens I’ll call you. I’ll call Jess and Mike. One of them can come over.”

He nods and pulls me up for a hug. “Okay.”

“Call me when you reach the jail,” I say quietly. 

“I will.” We don’t want to separate but we have to if Chris is going to make it to Sam’s on time. “I love you.”

I inhale deeply, letting the light scent of him and our laundry detergent fill me. I’m comforted. “I love you too.”

Chris leaves the house and I watch him go. I watch him out the window until his car has left the driveway. Time to get to work.

I spend the rest of the morning cleaning the house. There isn’t much to do, surprisingly. Chris and I aren’t the neatest couple, but we recently cleaned up the house together and we were both reluctant to get it messy again. I go to his desk and straighten up the papers laying there with his laptop. I place the papers on the corner of the desk and glance at his laptop. There’s a trio of folders neatly labeled on his laptop. One is labeled “App Ideas.” The one below that is labeled “Important Business Transactions.” The third one makes me smile. “Future With Ash.” I’ve known he’s had a folder dedicated to me for a while. I’ve never looked in it. Chris has never mentioned it. I haven’t asked him about it. He’s never brought it up. He’d be embarrassed if I knew he had it. I’m just glad there’s something about me with his business things. 

It’s three when I finish cleaning the house. I haven’t eaten lunch. I decide it’s too late to do so and just skip. I’ve been skipping lunch a few times over the past few weeks. It hasn’t really effected me. Instead I just grab a bowl and place some cheese and caramel popcorn into it, smiling at the strange and delicious combination. I then grab my laptop and work on a new story. I emailed Mary’s nephew yesterday evening. I haven’t heard back from him. I don’t need to worry about it. I don’t need more things to worry about in life. I just type away, enjoying my popcorn, only taking a break to grab a Sprite Zero from the fridge to wash down the popcorn. Before I know it the doorbell is ringing. It’s probably Jessica. My suspicions are confirmed when I look out the large glass front we have. Jessica is standing there in all her beautiful, scarred, blonde glory. In her hands she has a large box of things for the party. 

I open the door and she smiles. “Hey Ash!” 

I smile. “Hey Jess.” 

She comes in and places the box down on our table I notice the ring on her left finger. I’ve always thought it was pretty. Mike sent the picture to me, asking if he thought Jess would like it. I said I did, but he should ask Emily since she’s better at that wort of stuff and Jess is her best friend. Apparently Emily thought it was pretty too. “So,” I ask, “what have you and Mike been up to?”

Jessica laughs. “You two are really are cut from the same branch. He’s always asking what you and Chris are up to after you and I hang out.”

I shrug. “It’s not that surprising. He’s always been that way.” 

“True!”

Mike is my step-brother. His mom married my dad when I was six and he was seven. We were pretty close when we were little, but we had a falling out after the prank. He was the one that talked me into doing it. I was a little drunk at the time and Chris and Josh were asleep. Mike said they were going to prank Hannah and roped me into their scheme since I’ve never been good at saying no. I didn’t talk to him after that until we went back up to the lodge. I had been trying to blame him for my guilt. I realized that was wrong of me. We, slowly, and a bit awkwardly, went back to our old brother-sister routine after the events of the lodge. I’m glad he’s with Jessica. They both deserve to be happy.

“So,” Jessica looks around room and starts getting things out of her box, “let’s get set up!”

There wasn’t much to do, just unload all the food Jessica brought and set up the gifts we all got for Josh. I think we’re doing so much for him for our own sakes as much as his. 

Five-thirty arrives as soon as Jess and I finish setting up, Matt, Em and Mike all arriving, too big smiles plastered on their faces. We’re all nervous. We make awkward small talk while we wait for Chris and Sam to get back. Josh doesn’t know we’re doing this for him. I get a text from Chris. They’re five minutes away. The five of us look at each other. “Well, this is it,” Matt mutters quietly. Everyone is looking at me. I can feel it. They know Josh did a lot, but he did the most to me. 

“Are you okay, Ash?” Mike asks quietly. 

I nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

I watch as the car comes up the driveway. “I’m just fine.”   
 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “This is just a temporary hell, not a permanent one,” Alice Sebold, The Lovely Bones

I’m staring at him. He looks exactly the same as he did five years ago but there are heavy bags under his eyes. He looks on edge, like he’s a scared rabbit looking for an escape. His eyes dart around the room quickly, looking at each of us then glancing away. An awkward tension hangs in the air. This is the first time we’ve all been gathered together since that night. It’s impossible to pretend the events of that night never happened. I feel my chest tightening. Everything is becoming too real. I know I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. Chris is the one to break the silence, trying to cut the tension in the room. “So, I guess you’re speechless I have such a nice house.” He faces Josh as he speaks. 

I notice Josh let out a breath and see him physically relax. “Yeah. When you said we were going to your place I was expecting a crowded apartment and cockroaches. I didn’t think you meant an actual house.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” He then invites Josh further in, leading him into the living room, the rest of us following like ducks. “Ashley decorated the place. It looks good, right?”

I feel a blush spread to my cheeks. I like our house, but I’ve never heard Chris talk about it so warmly since we finished getting it set up. I see Josh light up a bit when my name is mentioned. He’s seen me since we got here but it looks like he’s just now processing who I really am. “So, you and Chris got together, then?”

I nod. “Yeah. We’ve been together five years now.” I look at the others in the room. “That’s nothing compared to the others, though.”

Confusion spreads across Josh’s face. “What do you mean?”

Mike looks at Jess and gives the first smile I’ve seen him give since Josh arrived. “Well, Jess and I are engaged.”

Josh looks a bit shocked but smiles at them once he gets over his initial shock. “Oh, um, congratulations.”

“Matt and I have a daughter.” If Mike and Jess’s announcement caught Josh off guard then Emily’s announcement completely blew him away. His expression completely melted into confusion.

Matt took the opportunity to open his wallet and show off pictures of Izzy to Josh who started to get a smile on his face. “She’s cute,” Josh said over his confused state. “What’s her name?”

Matt spoke calmly to Josh as he looked at the picture of the two year old. “Isabella.”

“Cool.” 

An awkward silence fills the air again. The rest of us take seats in the living room, Josh sitting on the couch with Sam on his right and Chris on his left. Mike and Jess take the plush seat next to my giant bookshelf, Jess sitting on Mike’s lap, while Matt and Em go and sit on the matching plush chair that is usually Chris’s, Em sitting in the seat and Matt sitting on the arm. “I’ll go get some snacks,” I announce, trying to do anything to make this “party” less awkward. What do we ask? How was jail? Did he get over Hannah and Beth’s deaths? Is he on the right meds? I just want tonight to be over. A party was a bad idea. 

I retreat to the kitchen and find myself sinking to the floor, trying to think of what to do. I want to reconnect with Josh. I sent him a letter every month while he was in prison, asking how he was and if he was recovering. I apologized for what I did that night with Hannah and Beth in every letter. I didn’t tell him much about our personal lives, not wanting him to feel like he was missing out. Maybe that was a bad idea. It would save a whole lot of awkwardness now. I’m pulled away from my thoughts by the sound of footsteps. I try to get up, make it look like I haven’t just been sitting on the ground freaking out, but the person comes in before I can pretend. “You okay, Ash?” It’s Chris. Of course he followed me in here. He sits down onto the floor next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. “You’ve been in here a few minutes. Everyone was wondering what was up.”

Had it really been that long? I felt like I was only in here for moments. I take a deep breath and find myself getting to my feet. “Well, I guess I should get back out there, then.” I can tell the smile on my face is fake. Chris can too.

“Don’t push yourself. We can do this another time.”

I shake my head. “When will we be able to get everyone together again? I’d rather this whole situation be resolved before Mike and Jess’s wedding. I don’t want to be afraid at my brother’s wedding, Chris. I don’t want to be afraid of Josh anymore.”

Chris gets on his feet and makes his way to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing a plate of cookies I’d made. He takes the plastic wrap off and throws it away. “I’ll go put these out there. I’ll tell everyone you were getting cheese and crackers set up.”

I give him a smile and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Josh is afraid you hate him.” Chris’s voice drops to a near whisper, barely audible to me. “I told him you don’t and but he doesn’t believe me.”

“I don’t hate him,” but I am afraid of him. “I just need to take things slow.” 

“I’ll tell him,” Chris says, making me happy that he’s here with me. “Come out when you can. I think we’re going to open presents then call it a night.” He leaves the kitchen, giving me one more gentle smile before walking away.

I’m lucky to have Chris. I wouldn’t be able to go through this without him. Chris, Josh and I were best friends in school. They were a year above me but I met them because we all took similar electives. We started hanging out and it was casually mentioned that my brother was in their year. Mike started hanging out with us on weekends and our group kept growing, including Josh’s sisters, Sam, Matt, Jess and Em. We would all go have lunch together, play endless rounds of Mario Kart and Mario Party, Cards Against Humanity, all sorts of things, but there were days where it was still just the three of us. There’s a part of me that wants to go back to being the three os us, but it won’t ever be the same. I’m naive, but not stupid. I know it’ll never be the way it was. I had trusted Josh so much at one point. He was the first one to know I liked Chris, the first one to know I was still a virgin, the first one to know that I didn’t drink alcohol. He got me my first drink. He invited Chris over one day when his mom and dad were out of town and Hannah and Beth were at friend’s houses, and the three of us drank a large bottle of Malibu Rum. They made fun of how quickly I got wasted, how low my tolerance was, but when I woke up the next morning they hated me for my nonexistent hangover. I miss those days. 

I go to the fridge and grab a cheese ball I had bought last time I went to the grocery store for this occasion, then grabbed some crackers from the pantry, carefully arranging everything onto the serving dish. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and set out. I placed the cheese and crackers on the coffee table and went to sit on the armrest of the couch next to Chris, making sure there was a smile on my face. I’m a mess, but no one can know that. 

“Thanks, Ash!” I see Matt giving me a warm smile and I give him a small nod. 

“No problem.” It doesn’t take that long to set out cheese and crackers, but I know he was trying to make me feel more comfortable. I appreciate him for that. 

No one had brought up prison while I was gone. Everyone was just talking about their lives. Em and Matt were gushing over Izzy, Sam was talking about how amazing it was to work at the clinic, Mike and Jess were talking about their wedding plans, and Chris kept saying how amazing his job was. “What are you up to, Ashley?”

Josh’s question catches me off guard and I feel my heartbeat quicken. “Oh, um, I just finished a novel. I’m working on getting it published.”

Josh nodded his head. “What’s it about?”

My face starts to become hot. I didn’t expect him to ask that. I didn’t expect my book to be a topic of conversation tonight. I wrote it for Josh, but I didn’t ever want to tell him myself. I thought Chris could relay the information, or something. It’s hard to share my work with others. “Um, it’s about a guy who is going through a tough time.” My voice is quiet and I look at the floor as I speak. “It’s hard to explain. I’ll get you a copy, if you want. You can read it.”

I can hear the grin Josh has on his face. “Thanks, Ashley! Sounds good!”

It stings to hear him call me Ashley. It’s too formal for something like this. I’m Ash at home. I’m Ash around my friends. I’m Ashley when it’s serious. I’m Ashley when I’m at work. “You can call me Ash, you know.” I look over at Josh and see his face soften. He was nervous too. 

“Alright, Ash.”

This is when Jessica decides to get up and go to the room where we were hiding Josh’s presents, grabbing Mike by the hand and dragging him to get them with her. Josh looks confused by the knowing looks on our faces. The two of them return moments later, Mike carrying the bigger of the wrapped boxes, Jess the smaller. “We all got you some stuff to help you out.”

Josh looks surprised. “You didn’t have to do this.”

None of us say it because we don’t need to. Yes, we had to do this. It was our fault Hannah and Beth died. If they hadn’t then the events of the following year never would have happened. Josh wouldn’t have gone to jail. None of us would be suffering the way we are now. “Why don’t you open mine first?” Sam asks quietly. 

I don’t miss the smile he gives her. It’s soft, shy, like out of a movie, where the main character has a crush on the pretty girl and can’t get the nerve to talk to her. “Okay.” He picks up a small box and opens it, seeing a Visa gift card, a note attached saying she would take him to get new clothes since he was going to need it. There was also another one hundred dollars cash. We all pitched in a hundred each. Not a lot, but seven hundred dollars could potentially pay for a month of rent. Josh continued to open the presents, getting cleaning supplies from Mike and Jess, bathroom supplies from Matt and Em, and kitchen necessities from Chris and myself. We could all tell Josh was shocked at this. He didn’t have any words. We just told him it was to make up for the past five birthdays we missed. 

Matt, Em, Mike and Jess left around nine. Chris had to take Josh and Sam back to Sam’s house. Josh was staying with Sam until he found an apartment of his own. They left around nine- fifteen. I was left here to clean up the mess, which wasn’t huge. It took about five minutes then I was back to doing nothing. I decided to make myself a cup of hot chocolate and read a book. I grabbed the milk from the fridge and added the mix and vanilla once the milk was near boiling, whisking it and pouring it into one of the mugs Chris got me, a Harry Potter one with the Marauder’s Map on it, topping it with whip cream and sprinkles. I grabbed The Lovely Bones from the bookshelf and made my way to our back patio. 

This was one of my favorite places in the whole house. The back patio was covered by a wooden awning, a matching wooden deck sitting just below it. Chris and I had a pair of plush outdoor chairs, blankets and space heater so we could sit here any time of the year. There was snow out today so the space heater and blanket would be a necessity. I placed my hot chocolate on the small table between mine and Chris’s chairs and switched it on. My favorite part of our patio was the fairy lights Chris had strung everywhere. I could read in the warm glow of the lights, feel at ease. It had this set up when he asked me to move in with him. It was in this spot where he asked. We only have the two chairs out here because this is our spot. Backyard parties we bring folding chairs and plastic tables for everyone and sit around the fire pit. There we can be with our friends. I like being with just Chris under the lights. 

I am a few pages into my book when I hear the door open. Chris has a cup of coffee in one hand, a book I got for him in the other. “I thought I’d find you out here.” I pass him one of the blankets while he takes a seat. “Are you okay?”

I nod. I really am. “Chris, thanks for having the party. I’m going to move on one day. One day I’ll be able to see Josh and not feel any anxiety at all. I promise.”

Chris takes one of my hands in his and squeezes it. “I can’t wait.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Out of all these things I’ve done, I think I love you better now.” -Ed Sheeran, Lego House

It’s been two weeks since Josh has returned and our lives have slowly been going back to a new sense of normal. The biggest change is the amount of time I have alone now. Chris has been going to visit Josh, helping him find an apartment and get settled in so he doesn’t have to continue crashing at Sam’s place. I don’t think either of them mind the arrangement, though. The time I’d usually spend with Sam has been replaced with time she spends with Josh. I feel a bit jealous, if I’m completely honest, but I can’t have Chris and Sam all to myself. That’s selfish of me. I would join them, go hang out with Josh, but the thought gives me anxiety. I don’t have work today. Maybe by some miracle Sam will be able to come out to lunch. She’s missed the past few lunch dates we have. If not I’ll ask Mike if he wants to go. I haven’t spent time with my brother lately. I unlock my phone, quickly punching in the four digit passcode and scroll through my contacts, finding Sam’s name quickly. I dial tap on her number and will her to pick up. “Hello?”

“Sam, hey!” She answered. She usually prefers texts to phone calls. I’m surprised she did.

“Hey, Ash! What’s up?”

“Are we still on for lunch today?”

I can hear her let out a breath and know what her answer is going to be immediately. “I can’t today. Josh and I made plans. I’ll make it up to you next week, okay?”

“Okay, sounds good.” I try to hide the disappointment in my voice. I miss being able to hang out with my best friend. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright. Bye!” She sounds happy. I shouldn’t feel bitter because she’s happy. What kind of horrible person does that make me? I tap on the red end call button after she says bye and scroll down to Mike, tapping on his number, hoping he’ll pick up. He does after three rings. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Mike. I was thinking about lunch and thought it had been a while since we went out together. Wanna go grab a bite?”

“Raincheck? I promised Jess I’d get lunch with her today. We have some wedding stuff to go over, apparently. I don’t know what else there is to do but we need to do it.” 

I let out a small laugh, despite the disappointment I’m feeling. Jess is a perfectionist over her wedding. She’s been planning it since she was six, or something. I’m definitely going to have her help me plan mine. “Yeah. Is Sunday okay? Mom and David are coming down for some wedding stuff and I’m sure they’d like to grab lunch with both os us. It would give me a break for a couple of hours too.”

“Sounds great! I’ll see you then.” 

“See ya, Ash.” We hang up and I’m out of options once again. Chris is busy as work so he wouldn’t be able to go get something with me. I feel lonely. A part of me wants to dig out my laptop and write my care away, but another part of me wants to curl up on the bed and watch anime on my phone to forget everything. The latter wins out and I get comfortable under the plush gray duvet. I bring Chris’s pillow closer to me so I can breathe in his smell so I at least have some comfort while he’s not here. I turn on a show I’ve seen countless times and watch without thinking of the show itself, just letting the worlds lull me to sleep. Lunch has been long forgotten. My eyelids grow heavy and I find myself drifting off. I can escape with a nap. 

The feeling of someone playing with my hair wakes me up. I blink my eyes open and see Chris sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his work clothes. I smile at him and he smiles back at me. “Good morning star-shine.”

Groggily, I pull myself up, getting dizzy from sitting up so fast, collapsing back onto Chris’s pillow. “What time is it?” My words are muffled by the pillow. I sound like I haven’t spoken in days. Chris continues to play with my hair. 

“Five thirty. I just got back from work. How long have you been asleep?”

“I can in here around noon. I turned on Death Note and fell asleep watching, so probably four hours, give or take.” I turn my head and look over at Chris. He lips are naturally curled up into a smile but his eyes look like they’re worried. “Is everything okay?”

He looks at me like he’s contemplating something, whether it be telling me what is weighing on him. He lets out a sigh and lays down next to me so his face is facing mine. We’re so close we could kiss. I can see the reflection on my eyes in his glasses. He puts his arms around me and pulls me closer, holding me and stroking my back. “I’m worried about you, Ash.” I stay silent. I know he is. It doesn’t take a genius to see I’ve been acting strangely. Even I’ve noticed it. Chris is closer to me than anyone. He probably noticed it before anyone else. “You’ve been acting like this ever since Josh got out.” 

“I know.” My face is buried in his shoulder. He can’t see the tears that are forming in my eyes. I feel the stinging coming. I don’t want to cry. I have no reason to. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?” I’m not okay with all of this, but I’m not sure it’s because I don’t want to be around Josh or because I’ve felt abandoned lately. “You haven’t written anything since he came back. You used to never stop writing Ashley. You used to tell me your stories while we fell asleep. You stopped doing those things.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears threaten to escape. I just press myself closer to Chris. I need him. 

“Do you want me to stop helping Josh?”

I shake my head. That’s not what I want. I want more time with Chris but I don’t want him to sacrifice his best friend for my sake. I am afraid of Josh but I still wish him the best. I promised Chris there would be a day where I could see Josh with no anxiety. I want to keep that promise to him. “No,” I mutter. 

“What can I do to help, Ash?”

I don’t think there’s anything he can really do to help right now. “Can you just hold me?” The tears start to escape. 

Chris kisses the top of my head and does exactly as I ask, holding me while I cry. He has every right to be worried. Between me and Josh he’s bound to be exhausted. I love him so much. I don’t deserve him. I think back to when he had the gun. He didn’t think twice about it. After realizing what was going on he pulled the gun to himself and pulled the trigger. He was going to kill himself so I could live. 

We both got hurt on the mountain. We both were scarred, but he was a hero. I couldn’t do anything. He saved me again and again. He saw death, looked it in the eyes. He risked everything to save Josh, even after all he did to the two of us. Chris didn’t deserve anything that happened to him. 

“Chris?” I pull my face away from his shoulder once I’ve stopped crying. I can feel a headache coming. My eyes feel like they’re on fire, but I feel just a little bit better. 

Chris looks at me and forces a smile onto his face. It’s fake, but I appreciate the effort. “Yeah?”

“Can you ask Josh why he did all that stuff to you? You didn’t deserve any of it. You didn’t take part in the prank. Neither did Sam, but the two of you got the worst of everything.” I pause and take a shaky breath. “I had it coming. I could have said no. I shouldn’t have taken part. I should have tried to stop them.”

“Ashley, nothing was your fault. You were drinking. We all were. You couldn’t have stopped it even if you wanted to. Hell, Ash, you probably would have chased after Hannah yourself if you had been sober. You would’ve died too. I don’t want to imagine a world without you.” 

Maybe it would have been better if I had died that day. I can’t tell Chris that. I just say the other things that weigh on my heart. “I don’t want to imagine one without you either.”

“Why don’t you get dressed. I’ll change shirts and we can go out for dinner. Olive Garden?”

I nod. “That sounds good.” It really does. I’m hungry from missing lunch. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning, and I had a large lunch yesterday so I skipped dinner. I finally leave the comfort of the bed and head over to the closet, pulling out a thick red sweater and a pair of jeans. Chris changes shirts to get rid of the wet spot I made with my tears. “My Dad and Pam are coming into town this weekend, apparently. I’m going to grab lunch with them and Mike on Sunday.” I’ve moved from the closet over to my vanity where I quickly start to put on my makeup. 

“That’ll be fun. Do they know about everything going on here?”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t told them at least, and I doubt Mike has either. If we tell them we aren’t going to make a big deal out of it. I’m not going to at least.”

“That’s good.” 

I finish applying the last of my makeup and stand up, giving Chris a smile. “Let’s go!”

We head out and get into Chris’s car. It smells like him, like leather, mint and vanilla. I think he got the vanilla smell from the candles I use in the house but it makes me happy that a part of me has integrated so much with him. I hope I smell like him. 

We listen to my Spotify, letting calm upbeat music fill the car. Ed Sheeran’s voice fills the car. We both like his music. I’ve liked him more since moving in with Chris. One time I was sitting reading a book, pajamas, glasses, fuzzy socks, no makeup. I had music playing in the background, something to occupy my ears while my mind was being entertained. We had lived together for a couple months by the point when Chris took the book out of my hand and started dancing with me, twirling me around, causing me to awkwardly slip on the hardwood floor. We laughed and continued to dance awfully, laughing over the song Photograph. A smile pulls on my lips, one of the first ones I’ve felt in a while. I look at Chris and he has one on his face as well. “Are you thinking the same thing I am?” he asks. 

“Probably.” Chris takes his right hand off the steering wheel and takes my hand in his. Thinking Out Loud is playing right now, but we’ve danced to this song too. We’ve probably danced to all of his romantic ballads. “I love you.” My voice surprises me. 

“I love you too.” 

We sing along to the lyrics, not really thinking about the words because they’re already imprinted on our hearts. I want to dance with Chris one day. I want to dance with him in front of all of our family and friends, declare that we love one another to the world. I hope that day can come soon. It doesn’t have to. I’d wait forever for Chris. I know he’d wait forever for me too. Every time I picture us together I picture us dancing at night, underneath the stars and a bunch of fairy lights hanging everywhere. 

I can see the lights coming towards us, a moment of beauty before stretched out into terror. “Chris!” A car is swerving, driving right into us. The lights I saw clash into us. Glass shatters. I jerk forward, an airbag crashing into me. The world is hazy. I glance over at Chris, the last thing I see is him collapsed over the steering wheel, blood coming from his head. “Chris...”


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Fairies are invisible and inaudible like angles. But their magic sparkles in nature.” -Lynn Holland

I wake up to the sound of steady beeping and can feel a hand closed around mine. It’s not the soft, warm hands I’m used to. These are dry, rubbing little circles with their thumb around my bony hands that are dwarfed in size by my, still rather small, hands. I blink open my eyes, dismissing sleep. There’s a warm smile on her face. “Hey, Ash. How ya’ feeling?”

“What?” I look around the room. The steady beeping was monitoring my vitals. I’m hooked up to all sorts of wires and machines. “What happened?”

A sad expression appears on her face. I try to remember but the last thing I can think of is listening to Ed Sheeran with Chris. “Ash, you and Chris were in a car accident.” We were? Sam must notice the confusion on my face. “You were in a coma for two days. You have two broken ribs and your left leg had compound fractures.” I steadily remove the blanket so I can see my leg. I can’t feel anything. I’m probably on a lot of drugs. Sure enough there is a plethora of medical equipment on my leg, wrapped in a light gauze. “You’re going to need extensive surgery for it, apparently. Both your tibia and fibula were broken.”

“Oh,” is all I can manage to say. This doesn’t seem real. I was in a coma for two days? I have four broken bones? I’ve never broken a bone in my life. Sprained my ankle a few times but that hardly compares to this. Is Chris doing better? “How’s Chris? He’s okay, isn’t he?” I’m more terrified for him than I am for me at the moment. I start to try to sit up but Sam gently pushes me back down. 

“He’s okay. You had the worst of the injuries. He had a cut on his head, but...” Sam trailed off, looking conflicted. 

“Can I see him?” 

Sam looked nervous. Does he not want to see me? Was the accident my fault? “Ashley, he has a cut on his head and some brain damage.”

“Brain damage?” How is that not worse than some broken bones? 

“He has amnesia. The last thing he remembers is getting drunk and passing out at the lodge.”

I let out a low breath. “In 2014?”

Sam nods. “Yeah. The doctors said his memories might come back, but it’ll take some time.”

I shake my head. “What do you mean might? There’s a chance he won’t remember anything?”

Sam gets up from her chair by my bed and squeezes my hand. “I’m going to get a doctor or nurse. They probably haven’t noticed you waking up. Just try to relax. He’s been through worse. We all have. He’ll get through this.”

“How do you know?” My heartbeat starts to accelerate once again. I find it hard to catch my breath. The monitors are starting to make new sounds. 

Sam looks worried, trapped between leaving me and getting a doctor. I must look like an absolute wreck. She puts on a smile, though I can tell it’s strained. “It’s you and Chris, Ash. You two will always find each other.” With that she leaves the room and moments later I’m surrounded by doctors and nurses. All I can think about it Chris. 

oOo

I’m left alone after what seems like hours. The doctors told me I was going to have surgery and be in physical therapy for the next few months. My ribs should heal in about six weeks, but my leg will take longer. I’m lucky to be alive, they said. They saw the carnage from the vehicle. The passengers side was completely squished in. I guess I’m just lucky when it comes to life threatening situations. I don’t feel lucky. I’m glad when I can finally take a break and look around my room. I don’t have a horrible view from my window. I can see buildings in the distant, though I won’t have a nice view of the moon or stars at night. There are a ton of flowers in my room. Bright gerbera daisy’s sit i a vase on the table beside me a stuffed bear sitting next to them, holding a card that says ‘Get Well Soon.’ I haven’t checked who sent those but I’m glad they are there. Across from where I’m sitting there are three more bouquets, one made of sunflowers and small purple flowers I don’t know the name to, another with pink and white lilies, and the last, and my favorite, a small potted violet plant. I wish I could get up and do something besides stare at the flowers, though. I don’t have my laptop. I can’t write. I don’t know where my phone is so I can’t read or watch videos there. I’m just left here worrying about Chris and staring at the useless, albeit beautiful, flowers. A knock on the door is a welcome distraction. “Come in!” I try to sound enthusiastic but my voice is a hoarse croak. The door opens tentatively and I see one of the last people I was expecting. “Josh?”

He’s looking at the ground, trying to avoid eye contact with me. He probably feels just as awkward as I do. “Hey, Ashley.” 

He isn’t calling me Ash. I asked him to but now probably isn’t the time to correct him. “Hey Josh.”

He finally looks up and gives me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. “You look like shit.”

I let out as deep a breath as I can manage without my ribs hurting. The meds are starting to wear off. “Yeah, I probably do.” He continues to stand there awkwardly. He looks like he wants to speak but isn’t capable of forming the words. “You can sit down, if you want.”

“Uh, okay.” He takes the chair that was by my bed, but moves it away, putting a bit of distance between us. “Sam told me she told you about Chris.” I shake my head, trying to deny the thoughts. He can’t forget everything. He can’t forget about everything we have created over the past few years. Tears start to prick the corners of my eyes. I don’t want to cry, though. I’ve done enough of that over the past few days. “He wants to see you, but I didn’t know how’d you would react.”

“Why does he want to see me?” It hurts. The me he remembers is the me from years ago. We’ve through so much since then. 

“He was asking me questions, what happened, where he was and all that. When he woke up from the accident was asking me why he wasn’t at the lodge.” Josh paused, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m lucky Sam was the one who was with him when he woke up and not me. I don’t know what the hell I would have done.”

Frankly, I have no idea what I would have done either. “He doesn’t know about the lodge anymore?”

“Not a thing.” Josh looks like he’s struggling. “I told him some things, though. I told him it blew up in a gas fire. I told him that happened five years ago. I told him that it’s 2020. He thought I was fucking with him at first.” He swallows. “I told him Hannah and Beth died.”

“Oh, Josh.” There’s a desperate look in his eyes, one I haven’t seen since that horrible night. He looks lost, confused. I know this must be hard for him. 

“I told Chris that you’re an author now. He was asking about you. I said that if he wanted to hear stories then he should ask you.” I don’t react. I’ll help Chris piece back his life, sure, but stories? It’s one thing to write words down on a page, but another to say them aloud. I’d probably just end up confusing him more. I don’t want to hurt him. I’ve git the worst of the injuries, like Sam said, but I remember my past. Most of it. The doctors said I have amnesia from when I hit my head, but only affecting my memory of the accident. I don’t want to get that memory back. “Can you do me a favor, Ashley?”

“Depends on what it is.” I’m not going to get sucked into one of his massive plans. I don’t want to hurt Chris. I want him to be happy. 

“Don’t tell him about that night? I’m sure we’d all like to forget it, but he actually has. Maybe he can start living without all that bullshit tearing him up.” 

Don’t tell him? That night haunts all of us. I’ve seen his nightmares. He is terrified when he wakes up. Wouldn’t I just be a burden to him, then? Would he want to be with me without our shared monsters? A dull pain in my ribs and my leg remind me that wasn’t our only monster. There are more we’ll have to face in the future. We can get over this one, together. I love him. I can’t abandon him. He probably sees me as the same girl I was in high school, but he liked me then too. Maybe he can fall in love with me again. He doesn’t need those monsters. “Alright. I won’t tell him.”

The pained smile on his face becomes a bit more real. “Thanks, Ash.” He gets up from his spot and moves the chair back to where it originally was. He called me Ash. Maybe Josh and I can get back to where we were too. I wish I could forget that night and keep all the other memories. “Do you want me to send Chris in? He’s been waiting outside.”

I give Josh a nod. My voice is sore, and I want to save as much of it as I can for Chris. He leaves the room and a moment later Chris walks in, looking somber, but no trace of hauntings in his eyes. “Ashley?”

I smile at him. “Hey Chris.” It’s reassuring when Chris calls me Ashley. It’s too formal spoken by anyone else, but affectionate from him. He looks nervous, but takes the seat next to me. 

“So... Josh tells me you’re an author now.” 

“Yeah. Did he tell you anything else about me?”

He shakes his head no. “He said I should ask you. You’d be able to, quote, put the pieces together better, whatever that means.”

I let out a low, wispy laugh. It’s hardly more than a puff of air, but it feels like so much more. “Okay, well I’ll start with the basics. You and I are dating. We have been for five years now.”

He looks amazed. There’s an innocent sparkle in his eyes. “What? Really? I mean, that’s amazing. I didn’t think I’d ever land a date with you.” 

“I had a crush on you as much as you had on me.” 

“How did it happen?” I freeze. It happened at the lodge. I can’t tell him that. Can I play coy?

“Get your memories back and you’ll know.” I won’t tell him about the lodge. If he wants to find out then he will on his own. I don’t want him to lose the innocence he’s regained. Chris looks a bit dejected, so I change the subject. “We live together, too.” 

His expression changes quickly again. It’s amazing to watch. It must be hard to know that the last few years are nothing to him. He never experienced them. He looks good considering all that. He probably spent the last couple of days reacting to that news while I was still in a coma. “What’s it like?”

I find my smile growing bigger. If I imagine it like a novel it’s not so sad as to why I have to tell him things like this. “It’s amazing. I cook us breakfast and you go to work. When we get back from our jobs we sit on the couch and watch television or anime or play video games together. Sometimes we go onto the back patio and I’ll read and you’ll fiddle with some new app you’re creating and we’ll just sit under the stars.”

He blinks, confused, surprised. “I do all that with you?” 

I nod. “Yeah. All that and more.”

He looks at my hand, as if he’s unsure whether to grab it or not. I hold my hand out for him and he takes my hand in his. “It sounds like a dream.”

“It felt like one too.” It really did. I’m just waking up from that dream now and I have to face reality. 

“Ashley, can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course. Anything.”

“Were we,” his face is becoming pink, blushing. He’s looking at my hand and not my eyes. He’s shy. It’s cute. “Were we in love?”

“Yeah. I still am.”

“Oh.” He looks up from my hand and looks at my eyes again. “It’s weird. I don’t remember, but I still feel like I love you. I still feel all those emotions.” He bites his bottom lip. “Did something happen between me and Josh? It feels so distant between us. It’s comforting to be with you but it feels like I’m talking to a stranger with him.”

I can’t tell him. I need to protect him. “He’s been through a lot.” I let out a yawn and feel myself starting to drift off. “I’ll tell you more tomorrow, if you want.”

“I’d like that.” He gets up and walks over to the violet. “I got those for you as soon as I was able to leave. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all. I love them, actually.”

There’s a bag I didn’t notice he was carrying earlier. He pulls out something from inside and places it gently next to the flowers. It’s a mason jar filled with battery operated fairy lights. “I got the stuff to make this when I got the flowers. It felt... right... to get it for you.”

The tears I had been trying to hold back threaten to overflow. “Thank you, Chris. Really.” With that he leaves the room and I finally allow myself to cry.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Memory is the dairy we all carry about with us.” -Oscar Wilde

It’s been three weeks and I still haven’t left the hospital. The doctors had to perform several surgeries on my leg, and I was considered at risk because of my coma. I honestly don’t know what most of the surgeries were doing, but there is now a metal rod in my leg, as well as a series of screws. It’ll be about six weeks for me to get half the strength in my leg back, and eighteen months for it to be healed completely. I’m ready to get out of here. I’ve been stuck in this bed, moving around minimally. I’ve done basically nothing but eat, sleep and stream different shows. I was able to get a lot of work done on my newest novel, though, and I was never really alone.

Chris came by every day. The hospital released him after three days. He went back to work, excited to work on projects that he had never heard of. He’s talented. The company welcomed him back with open arms and were patient with him. Some part of him must know what he’s doing because it’s like he never left. It’s giving me hope that he’ll come back to me. We watch all of our old favorite shows because it’s like he’s never seen them. I know he’ll love them because he loved them before. It’s amazing that he gets to watch his favorite shows for the first time twice. 

While Chris has come by everyday, most everyone else has made their various appearances in my hospital room. Emily came by with Isabella, the two of them making me chocolate chip cookies (“Mommy let me put in the chocolate chips and lick the spoon!”) and a few books for me to read. Isabella even made a get well soon card and gave me her favorite stuffed animal for me to borrow until I felt better because the stuffed pig always helped her feel better when she was sick. The gesture warmed my heart and made me smile. I’ve kept her pig on my bedside ever since she brought him to me that first day I woke up. 

Matt came when he could. He is an assistant coach at one of the local high schools. He helps coach football. Currently they’re in off season but he’s still making sure his students work hard. Matt told me he told his students what happened to me and they all gave me their best regards. He had them sign a football for me. I’ve come by and watched their games before with the group. A few of them know who I am. Matt has introduced us to some of his players before. It makes me really happy that they are thinking of me. He’s come at least three times a week. He and I have always been close, ever since we met in elementary school. I’ve always considered him as one of my best friends. I’m glad that hasn’t changed over the years.

Jess comes around almost as often as Chris to talk about her wedding. She knows I’m invested as one of her bridesmaids, and as the sister to the groom. I also can’t refuse to listen to her talk about her wedding since I’ve got nothing better to do. I wasn’t able to go pick out the wedding dress with her, Em, and Sam, but she showed me lots of pictures and made sure to get my opinion before making her final choice. I’m glad she’s still thinking of me. She’s also brought me new flowers every time she visits, swapping the wilting ones for new ones, and watering my violet for me. She says I’ll look killer in my bridesmaid dress, cast or no cast. She’s sweet. 

Sam comes in when she can, but I knows she’s incredibly busy with all of her school work and job, and now fostering a litter of puppies. She told me about a pregnant dog who was brought into the vet practice she works at had a litter of five before passing away due to malnutrition. She’s really worried about the puppies, but has shown me pictures of them, two girls and three boys. I know that with her taking care of them they’ll be okay. They’ve been getting steadily better since Sam started looking after them. She works as their foster mom, Josh taking care of them while she’s at class. I’m happy she has a job she’s really enthusiastic about. 

My brother brings his textbooks and laptop and will sit in the corner of my room when he comes to visit. It’s quiet, comfortable, like how we used to be when we were kids before the whole Blackwood incident happened. The dream he has to become a lawyer has only intensified since that night. He wants to help others, people like Josh, who deserved better than what they were given. He blames himself for that night. He blames himself for what happened to each of the Washington siblings. He’s been working to atone for his sins since then. When he’s here I write more than any other time. I have something to prove, just like him. He thinks of his missing finger as a reminder of that night. I’ve seen him absentmindedly stroking it, subconsciously not allowing himself to forget the events that led him here. 

Josh is the only one who hasn’t visited, not that I blame him. I’d be scared if I were in his position. I hope things can go back to normal between us, someday. It’ll be a long road for both of us. I was fired from my job since I couldn’t show up, but my former co-worker’s nephew’s publishing company agreed to publish my book. It was the best news I’d heard in months. I was going to be a published author. Once this book is published I can give it to Josh. Maybe we can move on. I want my friend back.

Besides the doctors and my friends, there has been another visitor. A lawyer, Mr. Tanemura. The driver that hit us was drunk and escaped from the accident without any injuries. It’s a big deal. It was an eighteen year old, son of some multi-millionaire family. The family was already talking about how to avoid a court case before I was awake. There was a lawyer talking to me before I could fully process everything. Our lawyer thinks we have a strong chance. We were doing nothing wrong while driving and the driver has had a plethora of arrests and bailouts due to underage drinking, drinking and driving, and recreational drug use. The family was able to sweep this all under the rug due to the fact no one was hurt. This time the family can’t ignore it. There are already talks of settling but my lawyer has advised I don’t do this. I just want to get this over with. I haven’t heard from him in a few days. I expect he’ll come by any time now. Mike has been following the case closer than I have been. If I need any advice I’ll turn to him. 

Mr. Tanemura is a kinda man. I can tell he genuinely wants the best outcome for me and Chris. Mike told me he’s worked under Mr. Tanemura before and that I can trust him. I’m happy about that. 

The door opening takes me away from my thoughts and worries and my doctor walks in. He’s a nice man, in his late forties, early fifties. I can tell he used to be attractive, but age has started to come to him. His dark hair has streaks of gray and wrinkles have appeared on his face. He has a kind smile, though. It reaches his brown eyes and reassures me even when there is bad news. “Miss Brown, how are you feeling? You must be getting bored, huh?”

“It’s not too bad.” It’s a lie. I know I shouldn’t lie to my doctor but I don’t want him to feel bad. Doctor Kyle is doing his best to get me out of here as soon as possible. 

He gives me his kind smile and looks down at the clipboard in his hands. “Well, it looks like you should be able to go home today, if you’d like. I told your friend, Chris, this yesterday. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

My mood immediately brightens. “I can go home?”

Doctor Kyle nods. “You’ll have to take it easy though, and you’ll be on crutches. I recommend you don’t over exert yourself, and if you start to feel anything strange don’t hesitate to call up here. You’re going to have appointments in the future but you can set those up with the receptionist.”

“Yes sir.” I’m on the moon. I can’t believe I get to go back home. I glance over at the jar of fairy lights that has been keeping me company as of late. I’ll be able to go home and see my real safe place. 

“Alright then. It was a pleasure, Ashley.” He holds out his hand for me to shake and I oblige, happily shaking it back. He leaves me alone in the room and I pull myself out of the bed and slowly start packing up my belongings, placing my books and clothes, card and football carefully into the largest of my bags. I place my laptop, chargers, and Isabella’s pig into my smaller bag, and decide to wait for Chris to come before I try to move the flowers. I’m not waiting long.

“Knock knock.” His familiar silhouette appears in the hallway. 

“Come in.” 

He has a large smile plastered on his face. “So I guess the doctor told you, huh?” He is looking around the packed room and laughing. “Well, let me grab the bags.” He then turns his attention to the hall. “Josh, come here and grab the flowers, would ya?”

Josh? He came? He appears meekly in the room, avoiding looking at me and making a beeline for the flowers. Chris sees the exchange but ignores it. He’s asked me why Josh is so apprehensive around me before, but I told him I couldn’t tell him. That the reason why hurt too much. I think he thinks it has to do with Hannah and Beth’s deaths. He’s not wrong. He just doesn’t realize the demons we’re all facing. I wonder what it’s like to have forgotten about the mountain? Chris seems happy, despite the amnesia. Josh left the room as quickly as he came. I guess he’s going to wait in the car. Chris passes me my crutches and gives me his crooked smile, picking up my bags. “I’ve got you all checked out and ready to go. After you, my lady.”

“Thank you.” I awkwardly crutch myself out of the room with my leg feeling extremely heavy. The nurses give me smiles as I walk out of the room, wishing me the best. We go into the elevator and go down to the lobby and out to the car. Josh is sitting in the driver’s seat. Chris places my bags in the trunk and walks me to the passenger side. I suddenly start to feel apprehensive. The last time I was in a car was the car accident. My heart starts to pound wildly in my chest. 

Chris seems to notice my reluctance and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hey, it’s okay. Josh is a great driver. He’s never been in an accident.”

“I know.”

“He’s not going to let anything happen to you, Ash. He’d never hurt you.” That stings. Chris doesn’t know how much his words cut. Josh heard what Chris said and I see him stiffen in his seat. He’s thinking the same thing. I can hear the saws in the back of my head. I feel the strain on my arms, the pain of being held up like that. Any longer and I’m sure my arms would have dislocated. I see the end of the barrel of the gun. I feel the punch in the face. He’d never hurt me? He has hurt me, and that will never change. I just climb into the car, trying to avoid shutting down. Forget about this now. Forget everything. I know I’m going to have nightmares tonight. I can feel it. The demons are crawling up my back. Chris climbs into the seat behind me and places his hands on my shoulders. His hands, warm and familiar comfort me. I still feel separated from him. I wish I could tell him, but it would be selfish to tell this story and burden him with it. I need a distraction. I grab Josh’s phone and start to play music. We listen to a random spotify playlist. It’s music without meaning to me and Chris. It’s strange. All the songs we listen to have some sort of story to us. They mean something. These are just generic upbeat pop songs that the general public is currently obsessed with. 

We arrive at the house after what feels like a thousand years. It hasn’t changed. My quickly beating heart slows at the familiar sight. “Josh,” I say to him, doing my best to give him a smile, “thanks for the ride.”

He gives me a small smile in return. “Anytime, Ash.” He’d never hurt me is a lie, but I am sure he will spend the rest of his life trying to make up for that. The ride was a start. I doubt I’ll be driving anywhere again anytime soon. Josh can do that much at least. 

We unload the car and make our way back into the house. It feels good to be home, even better seeing what Chris has. It’s a pair of Freebirds burritos sitting on our dining room table. “You told me you cooked for us. I’m not much of a chef, but Sam told me you love Freebirds.” 

I go and sit down at the table and laugh. “I do. Thanks.” Chris takes his normal spot across from me and we fall into something close to our old pattern. We have fun conversation. He asks me a plethora of questions and I tell him stories. 

“Do you know the password to my laptop? I haven’t been able to get in.”

A blush spreads across my cheeks. “Uh, yeah. It’s my birthday.”

“Oh, cool.” Pause. “When is your birthday?”

I laugh. He made his password my birthday because he was always forgetting it. It’s like going back in time. “October ninth.”

He nods. “Okay, awesome!”

That night I go to bed. We only have the one so Chris offered to sleep on the couch. “It’s our house. You might not remember, but this was yours even more than it was mine. If you don’t want to sleep here you don’t have to, but,” I can feel my cheeks starting to turn red, “I’d like it if you would.” 

He smiles, his cheeks turning pink as well. “Okay, I’ll stay.” 

He doesn’t remember, but his actions feel like he does. I’m cuddled up to him the way I always am. His arms are wrapped around me. I finally feel safe. 

The nightmares still come, though. I wake up screaming and crying in the middle of the night. Poor Chris doesn’t know how to console my crying. He doesn’t understand my nightmares anymore. He doesn’t know our demons. He just rubs my back and lets me cry on his shoulder until I can’t cry any more. “Something horrible happened that I don’t remember, didn’t it?” I know Chris takes my silence and clinging onto him as a yes.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “There is only one happiness in this life, to love and to be loved.” -George Sand

“Hello Ashley! Thanks for coming to meet me.” The cafe in the bookstore is quiet, only a withered old man with a cane reading a book about politics and a pair of college students with psychology textbooks spread out everywhere join us. The only noise really comes from the light chatter in the bookstore.

“No, thank you for inviting me, Mr. Wicke.” I can’t believe I’m here. I’m meeting with someone that can actually get my book on a shelf. 

“Please, call me Jason.”

I smile. “Okay, Jason.” Jason Wicke is the nephew of my former coworker. The publishing company he works for is small, just starting out itself, which is why they are considering manuscripts from authors without agents. Jason is a small man, barely taller than me, thin, with dark hair and thick, dark eyebrows that distract from his, admittedly very pretty blue eyes, that are covered by a pair of thick, round, glasses. His green button up shirt is buttoned up all the way holding his neck captive, a bright blue bow-tie covering the choking buttons. He has a pocket protector displaying the publishing companies logo, as well as three pens, red, black, and blue, sticking up. He looks like a nerd, but he doesn’t seem to be doing so purposefully, or so ironically. It’s a bit adorable in its own way. His voice is surprisingly low in pitch, though.

Jason pulls out a briefcase and meticulously sorts through manilla folders until he comes across one with my name on it. He takes it out and places it on the table, carefully placing the contents into neat stacks, my manuscript on the left, a series of notes in the middle, his coffee at the top corner near the notes, and contracts on the far right. It’s comedic to watch him do this so carefully. “So, I’ve read your manuscript and I have to say, I’m very impressed.”

I give a small smile. “Thank you.” My side of the table seems so different. I have my laptop, closed, a journal and a pen sitting crookedly to the right of my laptop, a hot chocolate above that, and my crutches leaning agains the side of the table. I adjust my notebook so it’s sitting straight on my desk, now. 

“Frankly, it’s one of the better manuscripts we’ve received. I heard you were in a car accident. Is that what inspired your novel?” Jason quickly glances over at my crutches. I need to correct him so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. 

“No, actually. I was in the accident about a month ago, after I finished this draft.” I grab my hot chocolate and take a sip. I feel nervous. We’re just talking. It’s not like we’re going to publish my novel today. Why is my heart beating so fast? “Actually, the inspiration came from one of my friends. I wrote this for him as a way of apologizing.”

“A young man recovering from his sister’s deaths... that’s what your novel is about, so how is this book an apology?” I stiffen and Jason seems to notice. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

I can’t look him in the eyes. The reason why this book exists is a secret between eight, well, now, seven of us. No one would believe me if I said it. Words from an authors mouth can simply be seen as a story, a fabrication of the truth. The reality we faced is too much like fiction. “It’s okay,” I’m muttering. My voice is hardly a whisper. I take a deep breath, hoping to still my beating heart. “My friend had twin sisters. They... were killed,” because of me. Because of my friends. We were irresponsible. We got them killed. 

Jason seems to notice this is a difficult subject for me and backs off the topic. “Alright. Well I wanted to meet with you to go over a few notes we had about the manuscript you sent us. You made the ending of your story rather ambiguous. There’s not a defined ending. This would be okay if you were going to write a sequel or series, but you told me you weren’t planning on doing that.”

“No sir.” I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I don’t think Josh would be able to either.

“Well then we want you to have a defined ending. It would actually be best if you could write out two endings, a happy one and a more depressing one, and we could choose which direction we want to go. I say the last twenty pages or so should all change this.” Change the ending to my novel? I wrote this book for Josh. I don’t know Josh’s ending. That’s why it’s so open ended. Still, I don’t think I have much of a choice. “Will that be a problem?”

“No sir. I’ll get it done.” I’ll do my best at least.

We continue to go over notes, spending the next hour asking questions about different passages, asking if I can change things, what my different motivations were, until we’re at a spot Jason is satisfied with. “Let’s meet up again in a month or so. I’ll email you a date once I look at my schedule and talk to the other clients. You’ll make all the changes we talked about and have two new endings for me to look at, right?”

“I’m looking forward to it.” It’s going to be a lot of work, forty new pages to write as well as go over everything I wrote and change another ten pages worth of content. I’m not sure how I’m going to do it. I’ll focus on finding another job after this month. If I’m lucky then I won’t need to look. I’ll be working as a full time author.

Jason picks up his things, meticulously placing everything back into his briefcase, handing me a copy of all the notes before leaving the cafe. I let out a sigh and slump into my chair. That was exhausting. “How’d it go?” I’m so tired I don’t even notice Chris walk up to me. 

“Hey! I’m sorry that took so long.” Chris wanted to come with me and sit in the bookstore while I had the meeting. I don’t think he feels comfortable at the house alone yet. I can’t really blame him. 

“No worries, Ash.” He shyly extends a hand to me and I take it. Holding hands before was natural, but now he seems nervous to do so. I can tell he’s doing things that he’s unsure about. I cannot even imagine what he’s going through. “So do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not here.” Sitting in the cafe chair for so long has made me feel stiff. “Let’s go home. I’ll tell you about it then.”

I notice the tips of his ears turning pink and watch as he intently stares at the floor. “Do you think you could tell me more stories about us, before I lost my memory, I mean?”

“I’d love to.” I really would. I love telling him stories as much as he loves hearing them. We head out of the bookstore, Chris holding a plastic bag and a pair of books I didn’t notice previously. “What are those?”

“I thought I’d get you a present as a congratulations for getting published, and stuff. I wasn’t sure what you have and haven’t read, though, so I just got a couple of new releases. You still like fiction, right?” 

Chris is still his considerate self, even after all of this. It’s amazing he’s staying with me. I’m sure if anyone else was in this situation they would leave, try to find their own way. I think about this as we walk home. I’m still a bit freaked out by cars, having only been in one when Josh drove us home. Everything we need is fairly close to the house, the grocery store being only a half mile walk, the bookstore we were just at is in the same shopping complex. I would walk to these places before the accident anyway. I don’t want these crutches to change the way I live my life. It’s possible I’ll be stuck with a limp for the rest of my life. I glance over at Chris. The limp is still there, barely noticeable. He hasn’t asked me about it. Yet. What do I tell him in case he does ask? I can’t tell him about that night. I promised Josh. 

I could write it. 

The reality we faced sounds like it could easily become a horror story. Change the names and the way everyone looks, talk to everyone and figure out their own personal experiences... I could do that. I wanted to dedicate a book to Chris once I finished this one. This could be perfect. Maybe it’ll give me closure, in the long run. Of course I’d have to relive everything for a few months while I write, but it would be worth it, wouldn’t it? A few months of hell in exchange for the rest of my life in peace. Chris will also know the story, and I won’t be breaking my promise to Josh. I know what happened when Chris was alone. He told me. I already have everything I need about him. “Hey, Ash? What’re you thinking about?” His features express a hint of worry. 

“Huh?” I’ve been wrapped up in my own head. I should have been paying more attention to him; we’re back in our neighborhood, and I haven’t even noticed. The walk back home felt a lot shorter than the walk to the bookstore. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about my next novel.”

His face lights up, the slightly concerned look he had when he was asking me what was wrong has completely vanished. “Oh? What’s it about?”

“I guess,” how do I put this? “I guess it’s about how you and I got together.”

“Can I read it?”

“When it’s done. Be patient.” He gives me a playfully exasperated look and continues walking, carefully watching me as I navigate. We’re walking up the steps to the door. Well, sort of walking. I’m crutching along and Chris is walking at a slow pace for my sake. “So, you wanted me to tell you stories?”

He nods. “Yeah, I would really enjoy that.” He looks at me thoughtfully, blue eyes softly gazing at me from behind a pair of glasses. “What was our first kiss like?”

“Our first kiss?” Can I tell him that? I could probably find a way to answer that, satisfying him. “Well, it was the middle of the night. You were going out and I was worried.” So far so good. “I knew you liked me.” He never said it in words, but choosing to save me instead of Josh with the saw, and shooting himself with the gun when it looked like we were going to die... I’m not completely naive. “I initiated it. I wanted you to know I was waiting for you.” 

“Oh. Was I happy? I feel like I should have been happy.”

“There wasn’t really much time to think about it. You left right after we kissed.” 

“Oh.” I watch as he slowly places the books on my bookshelf and goes to take his usual spot on our couch, sinking into it like he always does. It amazing that his memory gone and his body remembers his old habits. Even so, I can see the sadness lingering behind his eyes. That’s probably not what he wanted to hear. I can’t tell him that he went to save Josh’s life, that he left me there for a great reason. I’d have to explain the wendigos, and what happened to Hannah and Beth.

“Hey,” I go over and sit next to him, leaning my crutches against the coffee table, “don’t feel bad.” I lean next to him, hoping I’m not over stepping my boundaries, getting close like this. We haven’t done anything since that night. I have been going slow for his sake. I don’t want to confuse him. “You came back to me. That’s all I wanted.” 

“I shouldn’t have left.” He lets out a low sigh and lays his head on my shoulder. His head his heavy, but I’ll support him. “What reason could I have had for leaving?” 

You were saving lives. The mountain man was killed. I know Chris blames himself for that. Maybe I’ll leave him out of my book. ‘He saved my life, and I watched him die.’ I can’t even count how many times Chris has repeated those words to me. “Ash?” He lifted his head off my shoulder and looked at me. 

“Yeah.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” This must be a big deal to him. I know I feel my heart pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. There’s a billion butterflies in my stomach. 

“Can this be our first kiss?” Without waiting for my answer he puts his hand behind my head and brings his lips to mine, pressing them gently, but firmly, to my own. I feel sparks fly. He starts to pull away but I don’t want him to. I deepen the kiss, pulling him closer to me. Let this moment last forever. I’m happiest when I’m with him. 

We finally separate and the smile has finally returned to his face. “I was looking through my laptop. I had a folder there. We were planning a future. Have you seen it?” 

I shake my head, but I know what he’s talking about. “I’ve seen it on your desktop, but I’ve never looked.”

He takes a deep breath and sighs. “It’s weird for me to see all that. It’s another life, but it’s still me. I feel like you’re telling me about a stranger.” He looks me in the eyes, completely serious, but his cheeks are starting to blush. “Once you got your book published I was going to take you to Tokyo to celebrate. I was going to propose.” I can feel my eyes starting to become heavy, tears filling them. It’s amazing how quickly those words can affect me, and, for the first time I think about what we’re missing since we were in the accident. Chris and I would be living a completely different life. He would still have his demons, but I’ve always supported him. We’ve always embraced them. Is it selfish of me to feel robbed of becoming his wife? “I can’t do that now, Ash. I’m sorry. I will work hard, though. I’ll get my memories back. I promise.” There’s a fire to him I haven’t seen since the mountain. He’s passionate about this. 

I give him another kiss, trying to distract myself from the tears threatening to fall. He accepts and we don’t pull away from each other for the rest of the night, staying on the couch, in one another’s arms.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.” -Euripides

I spent the past month trying to correct everything Jason and I talked about. It was tedious work, going over the story I was proud of producing. To come up with the endings, happy and depressing, I had to go back and change certain scenes in the story, giving the story the proper tone since the story was intended to be completely different. My fifty pages of work I needed to became closer to seventy-five. The six hours I set aside to work a day became nine. I had difficulty cooking. Exercising was out of the question. The walks to the Law Firm became a biweekly chore. Chris supported me, despite it all. He would close my laptop for me and confiscate it, placing it on a high shelf I had no hope of reaching before the accident, if I was still working when he got home from work. He would walk over to our various friend’s houses and pick up food that they would cook for us, knowing I was out of commission in the kitchen and Chris could burn a pot of water. He would help me exercise, doing the physical therapy and massaging my shoulders once we were done. He would go to Mr. Tanemura’s Law Firm with me, walking at a pace I could keep up with. It used to be the other way around. I’d be walking at the slower pace. It was a strange turn of events, reversal of roles. This Chris wasn’t too different from my old Chris, just a bit clueless. The last things he remembers are from six years ago, but he doesn’t act like an eighteen year old. He has his maturity, his habits, but none of the memories that go along with them. I’m reminded of the mountain, when I was afraid to go any further. 

“I’m really scared Chris.” My heart was beating in my chest. That man was going to kill us. I didn’t want this to be the end for us. 

“I’m scared too, but,” that look on his face. He looks so determined behind those glasses. “I got your back, okay?” He comes closer to me. Is he- is he going to kiss me? “As long as you got mine?” 

I blink slowly and give him a small nod, barely noticeable, but confirmation of my new found bravery. “I do.” 

As quickly as the moment appeared it vanished. It was fleeting. That’s probably for the better. We pull away from one another and look down the stair case that is possibly descending to our deaths. “Um,” he says, “yeah, so let’s get this over with, I guess.” 

There’s not much choice, is there? “Okay.” 

Fear is define as “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.” I don’t think those words do justice to the fear we had instilled in us. Fear is the result of a horror movie, or staying up too late reading too many scary stories. Terror is defined as “extreme fear.” That’s an understatement. We didn’t know what was happening. Nothing made sense. Everything that we thought we knew about the world was turned on it’s head in a single night. I’m haunted by the choices I made. My brother held a gun up to Emily because of me. She almost died. It would have been my fault. When I walk into the Law Firm it’s always that scene that replays in my head. We almost died, but I almost killed someone. I did kill two people. I don’t deserve to fight against this, but everyone is acting like I don’t have a choice. 

“Rich kid needs to be punished, Ash,” Emily told me after my first meeting with Mr. Tanemura. She was the one I went to with these concerns. Because of years of separation from that night, and an understanding that we were all terrified, the “understand the palm of my hand, bitch,” sequence that was well deserved, we were able to move on. I didn’t know Emily could be so forgiving. I know she had to have been even more scared than I was. When she heard what Chris and I had been through with Josh, when we all told our stories in detail for the first, and only time, she seemed to understand I thought I was going to die at least three other times that night. Em has a strong personality, one that I wasn’t even completely familiar with back then, but now I’ve grown comfortable with. I’m never going to do something like that again. 

“Em, I got off. He didn’t kill us,” I swallowed and looked her in the eyes, starting to feel myself become hysterical. “We almost killed you, Em! Why should he be punished? I should be punished. This is God’s way of punishing me for everything I’ve done.” I swallow. “I hurt you, Em. I betrayed you.”

It was surprising to feel her arms wrap around my shoulders. Emily was never one for hugs, and she never hugged me aside from the short hugs given as a typical greeting. “That night doesn’t define us, Ash. It’s who we have become since then that’s important.” She pulled away and looked me in the eyes. “Yeah, it was fucked up, the whole thing in the basement, but you didn’t pull the gun on me. You didn’t tell Mike to kill me. You told me to leave.” She took a deep breath. I could tell she was going to say something that was hard for her to admit. “I don’t think I would have done any different if I was in your situation.” A small smile appeared on her face, encouraging me to keep going. “You even had the balls to admit you were wrong, telling the truth about what you read in that book. I would have just hidden it.”

“Thank you, Em.” There was one weight lifted off of my shoulders. Forgiven. It doesn’t change the past, but it changes my outlook on the future.

“Now go get that son-of-a-bitch! If you don’t knock him down he’ll keep doing this to others until he gets someone, possibly himself, killed. 

Those were the thoughts I brought in with me as I walked into the firm. I’m haunted by the choices I’ve made, but there’s potential for redemption. “Miss Brown, Mr. Hartley, take a seat. Mr. Tanemura will be with you in a few minutes.” A pretty receptionist has come to recognize over that past visits. African-American, with straight, long black hair, warm, deep brown eyes and a resting, natural smile. I wonder if Chris wishes I looked like her? She can walk just fine on her own. She’s got that going for her. I just give her a smile and walk over to the light brown leather couch, taking a seat on the far end. Chris sits beside me and pulls out his phone, working on the apps he’s developing. I dig in my purse and pull out the book I’m reading, Me Before You, feeling vaguely guilty I’m upset about my single leg while one of the characters is a quadriplegic. 

I’m able to read a chapter or so when I feel someone tap me on my shoulder. I look up, Chris looking at me with a smirk. “They called us back.” 

“Oh.” I place my book back in my purse and grab my crutches, walking with Chris to Mr. Tanemura’s office. I’ve always been dead to the world while reading. I don’t notice anything going on around me. I don’t hear the outside world. In those moments it’s just me and the characters inside the story. Their world is the only one that matters. Reading is a blessing and has become one of my favorite therapies since the mountain. It’s possible to share a television screen, but difficult to share book pages. It’s a world reserved or a single person at a time. It’s special. Chris told me once he thinks it’s cute I’m able to block out everything like that when I’m focused. I wonder if he still thinks it is. 

Mr. Tanemura opens the door for us when we get to his office. I’m glad he’s our lawyer. He’s young for a lawyer, late twenties, but very talented. He’s Japanese, with an always polite smile on his face. He hasn’t tried to hide anything from us about the case, which has made me trust him. “Ashley, we’re going to be relying on your testimony,” he told me towards the beginning of our biweekly meetings. It made sense. The memories I had forgotten immediately after the accident were coming back, though I wasn’t sure if these details were a fabrication of my imagination or not. Today, he had a smile on his face. “We have a date set for your trial.” 

Chris and I look at one another, shocked. “That was fast,” Chris says. He subconsciously adjusts the frames of his glasses, looking at the lawyer in confusion.

“This case is high profile. The media is having a field day around the defendants side. If you turn on the news something about this case pops up every hour or so. I’ve managed to keep the media off you guys, luckily. I haven’t disclosed your names or given them any details. I know the prosecutions lawyer. He’s going to do his best to make sure his client wins, but he’s respecting the privacy of you two. Still, don’t do anything that might lead the two of you into trouble. I want to win this for you. I genuinely think you were wronged.” I didn’t realize how big of a deal this was. It’s strange. I don’t feel like I should be involved in something like this. It feels like a different world. “We’re going to have the trial in six weeks.” We both nod, looking at one another. Six weeks. We can stay out of trouble for six weeks. 

At home that night I try to pull out my laptop, needing a distraction from everything. There’s nothing more to fix. I’ve been emailing Jason back and forth and we’ve gotten to a place where we can start discussing publishing. We haven’t officially chosen an ending. He’s getting other publishers to read the book and gauge which one has a better reaction and which will sell better. I hope Josh likes it. 

Chris noticed me struggling to get my laptop down from the high perch and he shakes his head. “No more work, tonight. You’re stressing yourself out, Ash.”

I sigh and decide he’s probably right. “Do you want to hear another story about your past?” I ask him. 

He shakes his head, surprising me. He’s always excited to hear more. It’s how we spend our time together nowadays. Instead he smiles and leads me out to the patio. Spring has started to appear. Our backyard has erupted into green, almost over night. It’s in the sixties, warm in the sun, cool in the shade. A beautiful day. Before me Chris has the biggest smile on his face. There’s a picnic set up, a pair of wine glasses are filled with sparkling grape juice -my medicine doesn’t allow me to drink alcohol- and Freebirds burritos sit before us. “When did you have time to do this?” I ask, amazed. 

He smiles. “Sam and Josh set it up.” 

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. 

“I asked them to. Ash,” he looks like a kid on Christmas, “I wanted to celebrate. I saw your book is getting published. It’s no trip to Tokyo, but still,” his smile is contagious, “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“I do.” I then lightly hit him in the arm, trying to hide the embarrassment that is coming from a romantic gesture like this. “I didn’t know you had a romantic streak.”

He hangs his head in mock defeat as he helps me sit down on the blanket. “I don’t. I told Sam I wanted to do something for you and she did the rest.” He sits down and takes a bite of his burrito. “By the way, we’re going out with the gang tonight. We’re all going to celebrate.” 

Celebrating turned out to be board game night at Mike and Jessica’s place. Izzy didn’t come so we were able to break out Cards Against Humanity guilt free. There were two particularly fun plays that I will always remember. Mike was the card czar and we had all passed him our cards. “When I was tripping on acid blank turned into blank.” He started cracking up on one of them. “When I was tripping on acid poopy diapers turned into edible underpants.” Josh played those cards and won easily. 

The second one happened when Chris was card czar, “MTV’s new reality show features eight washed-up celebrities living with,” he started laughing and I knew it was my card. “Geese.” Sure enough I won that round. 

We continued to play games, Cards Against Humanity, One Night Ultimate Werewolf, Betrayal at House on the Hill, until it was two in the morning. Matt and Em went home to relieve the babysitter, while the rest of us crashed in places around the house, Chris and I in the spare bedroom, Sam on the couch, and Josh on the floor. It was a night I would always remember. As I fell asleep I thought of Chris, glad he was making new memories as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Gymrat 435 on fanficion.net who requested this story in December. I'm excited to be sharing this story and very flattered they asked me to write it.


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